


no compasses

by blazeofglory



Series: umbrellakink fills! [10]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Image, Body Worship, Gen, M/M, Past Drug Addiction, Self-Esteem Issues, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, and ended up being... more about his relationship with sobriety as a whole, and falling in love with dave lmao, nebulous AU where dave is in the present yada yada you get it, this was supposed to focus on klaus's body image during his newfound sobriety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:27:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26133427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blazeofglory/pseuds/blazeofglory
Summary: Five times Klaus was insecure about his body, and one time he felt really,reallygood about himself.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz
Series: umbrellakink fills! [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1889470
Comments: 20
Kudos: 209





	no compasses

**Author's Note:**

> for a kink meme prompt! 
> 
> title from "invisible string" by taylor swift. 
> 
> TW for disordered eating, self-esteem issues, and everything associated with gaining weight and hating how you look.

1.

“I can’t _believe_ this,” Klaus gripes, kicking off his jeans and sending them flying across the room. “I’ve been the same size since I was like 18!” 

Ben, sitting on the bed and looking largely unamused, rolls his eyes. “You finally look your age, that’s normal.” 

“Being _fat_ is looking my age?” Klaus demands, tossing his hands up in frustration. Ben just shrugs and picks up a book.

Klaus turns back to his reflection in the mirror, eyes sharp and assessing as he looks over his body. He’s been sober for a few months now, eating at least two meals a day for the first time since he left home at the tender age of 17, and since he hasn’t had to run from any cops or apocalypses in a while, he hasn’t exactly been working out. He looks _soft_. His cheekbones aren’t quite as sharp as they were before. His stomach has _never_ been pudgy, but it is now. His thighs have certainly grown too—they rub together now, in a way they didn’t before. He has _stretch marks_ now, on his stomach and ass and thighs. _Stretch marks_! 

Klaus pinches at the skin on his hip, frowning at the mirror. 

“I just can’t believe I let myself go,” Klaus says, despite the fact that Ben is very obviously refusing to engage in this conversation. “I always thought I’d be one of those gays that was hot and skinny forever!” 

With a dramatic huff, Klaus finally turns back to his closet. Pants are a no-go, apparently. All his time lounging around the house in boxers and/or sweatpants has led him here: he can’t button up most of his pants anymore. He had managed to squeeze into the last pair of jeans, but the fat on his hips had hung over—a _muffin top_. He hadn’t been able to get them off quick enough. 

A dress it is, then. Klaus dons a flowy sundress that falls to his knees, and he feels a little better when he looks in the mirror now. His stomach and thighs are obscured, and they’re the worst of it. Dressed like this, he feels normal again, and it’s a _relief_. 

But still, Klaus lingers at the mirror for another long moment, staring hard at his reflection. 

He’s never liked the way he looks, not really. There’s always something off—his hair too messy, eyes too red, legs too long, stubble uneven, fingernails bitten down, that weird birthmark on his butt—but he’s always been thin. He’s never had to worry about it before; with all the drugs he used to do, it would’ve been hard to put on any weight. 

This is yet another shitty thing about sobriety. The ghosts, the nightmares, the sleepless nights, the cravings, and now he’s _fat_. What a fucking joke. 

“I’m going shopping,” Klaus declares, turning away from the mirror and facing Ben. “Coming with?” 

“I don’t feel like watching you stuff yourself into tight jeans all afternoon,” Ben replies without looking up. “So, pass.” 

Klaus huffs. “Fine.” 

2\. 

“Hey, Klaus,” Allison says as she walks into the kitchen, where Klaus is standing at the counter, pouring himself a glass of apple juice. She glances over his outfit, smiling. “New skirt?” 

“New to me,” Klaus says, sticking his leg out to strike a pose—the apple juice wobbles, but he manages to finish pouring it without spilling any. “I went thrifting last week!” 

“Guess you had to get your own now, huh?” Allison laughs softly, barely paying any attention to Klaus as she gets herself a bowl of cereal. “You probably don’t fit in mine anymore, right?” 

Klaus frowns at Allison’s back. 

He glances down at himself, suddenly mortified. Is it that _obvious_? Has everyone noticed this weight gain? Allison must not think it’s a big deal, mentioning it so casually—but she _noticed_. Klaus has been hoping the dresses and skirts would disguise the pounds he’s put on, but it didn’t fucking _work_. 

“Next time you go shopping, I’ll come with,” Allison says, clearly undeterred by Klaus’s lack of response. She grabs her cereal and sits down at the kitchen table, grinning over at him. “We could invite Vanya and make a whole day of it!” 

Normally, Klaus would be eagerly agreeing, already suggesting places to go and accessories to seek out. But he’s too distracted now, crossing his arms over his stomach to hide the way it curves. 

“Klaus?” Allison prompts, and he startles out of his spiraling thoughts. 

“Sounds good,” Klaus agrees, forcing a smile. “Let’s do it.” 

3.

Despite Klaus’s worries about his weight, he doesn’t really do anything to change his habits. He’s never been one for self-control—it’s well known that he likes to indulge himself. In the past, _food_ wasn’t his indulgence of choice, but he’s trying to do better now. No more drugs, no more drinking, no more risky sex with hot randoms. 

God, he misses all of those things. 

Indulging in chocolates and pizzas and sodas has its side-effects, but Klaus can’t bring himself to bother curbing this new habit. As long as he doesn’t look in the mirror too long when he gets in and out of the shower, it’s _fine_. He’s got enough on his mind, he just tries not to think about it. 

“Save some for the rest of us,” Five says, slapping Klaus’s hand away as he reaches for another donut, and everyone chuckles. “You didn’t even chip in, you don’t get to eat all of them.” 

Klaus leans back in the booth, crossing his arms and glaring at Five. “Three donuts is _not_ more than my fair share, asshole.” 

“If you didn’t pay for any of them, what _is_ your fair share?” Five counters. 

“Hey, lay off,” Diego cuts in, talking with his mouth full. “Let Klaus have another fucking donut, it can come out of my share.” 

“You guys know we have all of Dad’s money, right?” Vanya asks, looking amused. “We don’t need to be splitting the cost down to every last penny.” 

“It’s the _principle_ of the thing,” Five replies. 

“Whatever,” Klaus grumbles, reaching for another chocolate cream donut, ignoring the way Five tracks his movements. He takes a big bite. 

“I’ve had, like, four donuts,” Luther admits as he wipes some powdered sugar off his chin. 

“It takes a _lot_ more food to fill you up,” Allison points out, brows raised. 

“Yeah,” Five pipes up in agreement. “Klaus, are you trying to get as big as Luther? Is that why you’re eating so much all the time?” 

Klaus gives Five the finger and feels suddenly grateful that he’s not prone to blushing, as the mortification sweeps through him. 

“It’s donuts or coke,” Klaus replies, forcing a wide grin, and he _relishes_ in the way that makes everyone suddenly look uncomfortable. Good—he shouldn’t be the only one uncomfortable here. Now it’s fair. “Should I go out and find a _different_ kind of powdered sugar?” 

Everyone sits there quietly, looking awkward and guilty, but Five just rolls his eyes. 

“Always an excuse for everything,” Five replies. 

Klaus takes another bite, despite having lost his appetite—he’s not backing down now. 

But later, when they get back home, he finds himself lingering in front of the mirror again. 

It’s not that much weight. It’s really not, and he knows it. But he can _feel_ it, he can _see_ each pound of it. Klaus fucking hates it. 

“Maybe I need something else to satisfy my cravings,” Klaus says with a sigh. 

Ben, nearby as always, shrugs. “You could try salad?” 

Klaus groans. 

4.

“This sucks ass,” Klaus declares, stabbing his fork at his salad. “Except I actually like sucking ass, and I _don’t_ like this.” 

“You’re gross,” Diego replies. They’re sitting at the kitchen table eating lunch together—Mom made sandwiches and salad, and Diego is happily eating his salad. Klaus already finished his sandwich and he’s still _hungry_ , but he’s _not_ enjoying the taste of watery leaves. Diego raises a brow at him. “If you don’t want it, don’t eat it?” 

“But I need to be _healthier_ ,” Klaus whines. “That’s the whole point of all these bullshit _lifestyle_ changes.” 

“Getting sober and eating vegetables are pretty different,” Diego says with an amused huff. “If you never eat a green again in your life but you stay sober, I think that’s a success.” 

Klaus leans his elbow on the table and rests his head in his hand, pouting. “You don’t think it’s bad if I get fat?” 

Diego shrugs. “Who cares? You’re a lot better off than you were a few months ago.”

“But who will want to fuck me like this?” Klaus bursts out, gesturing dramatically and almost knocking over his glass of water. 

“Plenty of people, probably?” Diego takes another bite of salad, unbothered by Klaus’s dramatics. “Some people probably like guys with a little meat on their bones. You know, something to hold onto.” 

“Something to hold onto?” Klaus echoes, frowning. “Like my _love handles_?” 

Diego laughs. “Yeah, exactly.” 

“I don’t _want_ love handles.”

“You could start working out?” Diego suggests with an amused smile. “I could help.” 

“Oh my _god_ , why would I want that? I’d rather suffer through an entire _buffet_ of salads than go to a _gym._ ” 

“Uh huh.” Diego looks down at the untouched salad, then back up to Klaus. “So you’re gonna eat that?” 

Klaus glares down at the salad. He doesn’t want to be fat, but... He absolutely doesn’t want to fucking eat that. He sighs loudly, pushing the bowl away. “Yeah, hard pass.” 

5.

Sobriety has had strange effects on Klaus. He started drinking and drugs so young, he just… sort of forgot what everything felt like when he wasn’t high. It’s been a lot of adjustments, figuring out how to ignore the ghosts that he can’t make disappear, trying to sleep without aid, and managing to fill the long hours every day without being bored out of his mind. He’s had to get to know himself all over again—who he is without the drugs, what he likes to do with this newfound free time, and it’s been a lot to deal with. 

It’s mostly been shitty—the ghosts are assholes and the only hobby that Klaus has tried and not hated is knitting, and he’s not even _good_ at it.

But for the first time since he got sober, Klaus is _horny_ , and that feels _good_. 

These past few months are the longest he’s gone without sex since he was 16, and though he’s missed the closeness, missed the touches, missed feeling wanted, this is the first time in a while that he’s actually gotten hard. It hadn’t even taken much of anything to get himself here—he was just laying in bed, bored out of his mind and trying to figure out what to do, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to get himself off. 

Klaus makes a soft, pleased noise as he slowly strokes his cock, letting the pleasure build slowly. He keeps his eyes closed, trying to picture the last person he let touch him like this—but he can’t quite remember who that was. There was a guy, he thinks, right before rehab. He was… tall. Big dick. Klaus can’t remember his face or his name, but he remembers that big dick, and that’s enough to keep this fantasy going. 

Klaus pinches his nipples, a little too hard, relishing the sharp sting of pain, pretending his hands are someone else’s. He keeps stroking himself slowly as he runs a hand down his chest—but then he stops as his hand slides over his soft stomach. 

For a moment, with his eyes closed, he forgot that his body feels different now. He tries to keep going, tries to pick up the pace, tries not to lose the thread of desire, but it slips away all too quickly. No, _no_ , he wants this—he doesn’t want the spiraling thoughts, all he wants is pleasure, and he hasn’t felt good in _months_. He deserves to feel good! 

But the fantasy fades out. He can’t imagine someone with him right now, touching him like this—who would want to? He’s not the hot piece of ass he used to be. 

This fucking sucks. 

Someone must want to fuck him though, right? Some guys will fuck _anyone_ —it’s not like Klaus has ever really had high standards either. And, yeah, he’s been carefully avoiding seeking out casual sex, but maybe… maybe he should try _dating_? Ugh. Who would want to date him, looking like this? 

It could be worth a shot, maybe. Just maybe. 

Klaus is so _bored_ , this could at least be entertaining. 

With a tired sigh, he puts his clothes back on and grabs his phone. He hesitates for a second, just one click away from downloading Grindr. His boner is gone, but he’s still kinda horny—and Grindr would get the job done. 

But Klaus is making better life choices, damn it. 

Instead, he downloads Tinder. 

He spends the rest of the night swiping right. 

+1. 

“I wanna do something a little different tonight,” Dave says softly, kissing his way down Klaus’s neck. 

“Finally gonna show me your kinky side?” Klaus teases. 

Dave laughs quietly, his breath warm on Klaus’s skin. “Not quite.” 

This has been going on for a few weeks now—Klaus hit the Tinder _jackpot_ that very first night when he matched with Dave. Dave is charming and handsome and unconcerned about Klaus’s infamy—and Dave never comments on Klaus’s weight, because Dave is a _gentleman_. The night of their first date, after a nice dinner and a few hours spent watching mindless romantic comedies on Dave’s couch, Dave had kissed Klaus goodnight at the door, so chaste and sweet. 

Then, of course, Klaus had dragged Dave back to the couch and sank down to his knees, and it all got a lot less chaste from there. 

It’s felt _amazing_ to have sex again, to feel _pleasure_ again, and it’s _nothing_ like it was before. Everything is so fucking intense now that he’s sober—every touch feels like the first goddamn time. And Dave is just… he’s sort of perfect, other than his obviously questionable taste in men. They don’t just fuck—they go on _actual dates_ , and Dave seems to _actually like_ Klaus. 

Klaus didn’t really know guys like Dave existed. 

“Tell me what you want,” Klaus whispers, cupping Dave’s jaw and pulling him in for a long, lingering kiss. “I’ve done it all.” 

“It sounds stupid to even make a big deal of this, but,” Dave hesitates, blushing. “I want to fuck you missionary.” 

Klaus freezes for a second, caught off guard, but then he smirks. “I thought you _liked_ hitting it from behind.” 

“I do!” Dave assures quickly, always so _earnest_. He kisses Klaus again, soft and sweet, then whispers, “I just… want to see your face. I want to see _all_ of you.” 

Klaus can’t help but frown a little. 

He’s a lot more attractive from behind, especially once clothes come off. 

But if he _says that_ , then Dave will probably say something _nice_ , and Klaus really doesn’t want to have to listen to Dave _lying_ just to spare Klaus’s feelings. 

Dave must sense Klaus’s hesitation, because he kisses him again, and again, and _again_ , until Klaus has lost himself in it, his arms draped over Dave’s neck as Dave presses him down into the mattress. Dave shifts a little lower, trailing kisses down Klaus’s neck, and he murmurs, “I want to look you in the eyes when I slide inside you.” 

Klaus _shivers_. 

Slowly, Dave pushes up Klaus’s shirt, and though Klaus is blushing bright red, he helps Dave get it off. They’ve done this before, of course they have, but it’s usually fast and hot, the way Klaus likes it—but it’s clear that Dave wants to take his time now. 

It’s _romantic_ , and Klaus doesn’t know what to do with that. 

“You’re so sexy,” Dave says softly, kissing down Klaus’s chest, and Klaus makes a soft, embarrassed noise. 

“Can’t you skip to the good part?” Klaus asks, reaching down to unbutton his pants—but Dave puts a hand over Klaus’s, stopping him. Their eyes meet, and Dave looks so _serious_ and _genuine_. 

“Every part of you is good,” Dave says. 

Klaus looks away sharply, staring up at the ceiling. 

It’s a nice ceiling. There are glow in the dark stars up there; Dave told Klaus he put them there the first night he moved into this place, because it made it feel like home. 

“I love how soft you are,” Dave murmurs. He laces his fingers with Klaus’s, holding his hand tight, as he presses soft kisses to Klaus’s skin. 

“I’m soft because I’m _fat_ ,” Klaus mumbles, still resolutely staring up at the little plastic stars instead of at Dave. 

Dave kisses the curve of Klaus’s stomach, right below his belly button. 

“You’re not fat,” Dave replies softly. “And even if you were? You’d still be so fucking _sexy_.” 

“ _Dave_ ,” Klaus protests softly, and Dave squeezes his hand. 

“I call ‘em like I see ‘em,” Dave says, and Klaus laughs. 

Dave lets go of Klaus’s hand, then caresses his love handles so _gently_ , and then Dave is helping Klaus out of his pants and underwear. As Klaus bends his knees and spreads his legs for Dave to fit between them, he’s hyper aware of the fact that it’s the middle of the day and Dave can really _see him_ , every inch of him. They usually do this at night, in soft lamplight or no light at all, and Klaus is usually already begging to be fucked at this point, and there are no lingering touches and appraising looks—or, at least, not that Klaus can tell, because he’s usually on his hands and knees with Dave behind him. 

But Klaus can see Dave now, hair tousled and eyes dark with lust, his gaze roving over Klaus’s body. Dave slides his hands up Klaus’s thighs, like he doesn’t care about the dark stretch marks, like he’s unbothered by the cellulite and squishiness. Dave looks… _god_ , Dave looks like he’s never been more turned on in his fucking life. 

“You _really_ think I’m hot,” Klaus says, awestruck, and Dave laughs softly. 

“Yeah, baby,” Dave agrees easily, with that handsome grin that Klaus is falling in love with. “I think you’re really fucking hot.” 

Klaus grins now too. “You can fuck me missionary, you goddamn romantic.” 

“If you think _this_ is romantic, just you wait until I bust out the candles and the rose petals.” 

“Oh, _wax play_ , I haven’t done that in a while—” 

“ _Klaus_ ,” Dave interrupts, laughing, and Klaus pats Dave on the head condescendingly. 

“Don’t worry, babe, I’ll ease you into kink,” Klaus says magnanimously. “We’ll start small, you know, with fisting or choking or something.” 

“You’re killing me,” Dave replies dryly, pulling back a little to quickly strip out of his clothes as Klaus watches—it’s a strange, new feeling to be amused and turned on at the same time. It’s so _fun_.

“Need to start smaller than that?” Klaus teases. “You could tie me up? Spank me?” 

“I’ll give you anything you want if you ask me nice enough,” Dave says, and Klaus doesn’t even know how to respond to that. He closes his eyes for a second, overwhelmed, and then he feels Dave’s hands on him again, one caressing his thigh while the other slowly strokes his cock. 

“I’m not convinced you’re real,” Klaus murmurs. 

Dave presses a soft kiss to Klaus’s knee, then kisses his way down the inside of Klaus’s thigh, raising goosebumps on Klaus’s skin as he goes. 

“I’m real,” Dave whispers. “And you’re real. And you’re so beautiful.” 

Then Dave takes Klaus’s cock into his mouth, and Klaus _groans_ in surprise and pleasure. He opens his eyes now, wide and wondrous, watching Dave—he looks so fucking _good_ like this, intense and focused as he bobs his head—and the whole time, Dave’s hands are moving, caressing Klaus’s stomach and hips and thighs, and it’s _so much_. 

“Dave,” Klaus gasps out, hips bucking up as Dave _sucks_. “Weren’t you gonna fuck me?” 

Dave pulls off, breathing hard, and grins up at Klaus again. “Sorry, yeah. I got distracted.” 

“God, _never_ apologize for sucking my dick,” Klaus replies immediately, and Dave chuckles. 

While Dave grabs the lube, Klaus tries to stay relaxed, focusing on how hard he is, how much he wants Dave inside him, how excited and _lucky_ he is to even be in Dave’s bed, in Dave’s _life_ , at all—but there’s still a part of him that feels embarrassed, laying like this. He’s so… chubby. How is this sexy? 

Then Dave is back, locking eyes with Klaus as he immediately slides a slick finger inside him, and _oh, yeah_ , Dave is definitely into this. And if Dave likes how Klaus looks like this, maybe it doesn’t fucking matter if Klaus is chubby. 

Maybe Klaus can learn to like it too. 

“More,” Klaus demands, and Dave is quick to add a second finger. Klaus groans, clenching around them, savoring the feeling, and Dave watches with hungry eyes. 

“So tight,” Dave praises, sliding his fingers almost all the way out, then slamming back in, drawing another loud noise from Klaus that Dave looks pleased to hear. “Fuck, Klaus, _look at you_. You take it so well.” 

Klaus blushes, but he doesn’t look away this time. He holds Dave’s gaze as Dave keeps fingering him, Klaus thrusting up to meet each movement and moaning when Dave fucks him just _right_. Soon, Dave adds another finger, and Klaus can feel his thighs _shaking_ as he moans.

“Dave,” Klaus moans. “ _Dave_ , fuck, I need it. Come on, I need it.” 

Dave angles his fingers a little and Klaus moans louder, grasping at the bedsheets. 

“Need what?” Dave teases. 

“Fuck me _now_ ,” Klaus whines. 

Dave chuckles softly, then slowly pulls his fingers out. “Anything for you, baby.” 

Dave grabs a condom and rolls it on while Klaus waits impatiently, legs still shamelessly spread, cock hard, flushed and sweaty and absolutely _craving_ more. He doesn’t think about how he looks right now; he’s too desperate in this moment to be insecure. All he can fucking think is how good Dave looks and how good he feels and how much Klaus _needs Dave inside him_. 

Dave grabs a pillow, prompting Klaus to lift his hips to put it under him, and then finally, _finally_ , Dave is pressing inside Klaus. 

“ _God_ ,” Klaus groans, reaching for Dave, pulling him down into a hot, messy kiss as they both adjust to the feeling. Dave rocks his hips and Klaus gasps, grinding his hips. 

“You’re perfect,” Dave whispers, breaking the kiss. “Jesus, Klaus, where have you been all my life?” 

Then Dave is _moving_ , fucking Klaus so deep, so good, driving Klaus fucking _crazy_. Sex has never been this fucking _good_ before, but it always is with Dave, and it’s—it’s so _intimate_ like this, breathing each others’ air as Dave fucks Klaus and Klaus holds Dave close, and it’s hard to tell where one of them ends and the other begins. 

Even like this, even when they’re being _romantic_ , Dave still gives it to Klaus _hard_ , just the way he needs it. The room is so loud with all the noises they’re making together, Klaus gasping and moaning with every thrust, Dave breathing hard, their skin slapping together with each hard thrust. Klaus fucking loves it. 

Klaus has been fucked by so many men in so many beds—and plenty of other places too—but this bed is his _favorite_. This _man_ is his favorite. It’s a ridiculous revelation to have while he’s being fucked so good that he’ll be walking funny tomorrow, but he can’t rein in his spiraling thoughts—he has _never_ been treated this well before. He didn’t know it was a possibility, and even if he did, he wouldn’t have thought he deserved it. 

But Klaus has it now. He has _Dave_ now, who treats him right and fucks him good and thinks Klaus is _perfect_ , despite all of Klaus’s baggage. Despite the ghosts and the nightmares, the tenuous grasp on sobriety that’s only slowly getting stronger, the scars and the stretch marks, the pounds Klaus has put on and the bags under his eyes after nights he can’t sleep—Dave still likes Klaus. Still _wants_ Klaus. 

And it feels _crazy_ to consider it, but Klaus thinks Dave might be in love with him. 

And, even crazier, Klaus thinks he might be in love with Dave too. 

Quite the revelation to have while getting fucked in the ass. 

“Dave, I—I’m so close,” Klaus moans, and then Dave reaches between them, wrapping a hand around Klaus’s cock. 

“I love making you come,” Dave murmurs, his blue eyes dark with lust. He strokes Klaus just how he likes it, tight and fast, still fucking him so _good_. “I love the look on your face, baby, it’s so—”

Klaus _comes_ , head thrown back, mouth open, moaning loud, clenching around Dave’s cock as the pleasure floods through him. 

“ _God_ ,” Dave moans. “Fucking gorgeous.” 

With just a few more thrusts, Dave comes too, moaning, “ _Klaus!”_

“Fuck,” Klaus says, breathless, running a hand through Dave’s sweaty, messy hair. Dave stays on top of Klaus for a moment, kind of squishing him but in a way that feels cozy and nice, while they both catch their breath. 

After a long moment, Dave pulls out and shifts away for a moment, disposing of the condom—but then he comes right back, laying down next to Klaus, and Klaus drapes himself over Dave’s body. 

“We are _so_ good at that,” Klaus says with a quiet laugh, and Dave laughs too. 

“We could always use more practice, though,” Dave replies as he strokes his big hand over Klaus’s back. Klaus smiles and snuggles closer, his head on Dave’s chest. There’s come and sweat on both their bodies, but Klaus really doesn’t give a shit about that right now. “I’m sure we can _really_ perfect it.” 

“Mm, you make a good point,” Klaus replies, smiling against Dave’s skin. “We should keep at it.” 

“At least once a day,” Dave agrees in a serious tone. 

Klaus giggles. 

“You know,” Klaus says softly, “I think I liked this whole romantic sex thing.” 

“Oh, did you?” Dave teases. “I couldn’t tell.” 

“Shut up,” Klaus laughs. He hugs Dave a little tighter, unsure how to really express everything he’s feeling. 

“I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Dave whispers, and Klaus blushes. 

“You too,” Klaus replies quietly. “It’s a good thing I got my shit together, huh? I thought getting sober and moving home was just gonna make me fat and boring, but it… it got me here.” 

“You’re not fat _or_ boring.” Dave kisses the top of Klaus’s head. “And I’m really glad you’re here.” 

Klaus smiles, and he believes every word that Dave says. “Me too.” 


End file.
